Kill
by timble
Summary: On a night he thought he would be spending alone, Kenshin meets Kaoru and realizes a mistake he's made. And it's already too late for them both.


**Kill**

_by Timble_

He had barely touched his wine.

It had been an hour since he arrived, since he ordered the champagne from the bar, and the most that he had was a disinterested sip, as if only to wet his lips. What was it there for anyway? It had cost him some good money to purchase the drink, and the best that it could do for him at that moment was legitimize his stay in front of the bar.

He had been deep in thought since he arrived, since he drove to the club, since he had gotten off work that day. What kinds of thoughts? A myriad of them—about his future filled with uncertainty, the present that had promised a happiness that remains elusive, a past of which he would rather not speak of but plague his thoughts it did, day in and day out.

And this was another of those nights. Its chilly air and the soft wind that blew it through the city did nothing to distract him from his thoughts and musings. Tonight was one of those nights he found himself listless, almost meaningless.

And so as he always did during those nights of aimlessness, he went for a drink.

"Do you not enjoy your wine, sir?" came the bartender's smooth voice, interrupting his thoughts. "I can replace it with a finer brand, should you wish. Or perhaps, would you like something entirely different?"

He shook his head and politely declined. "It is perfectly fine, thank you," he quietly replied. He turned to his thoughts once more.

The bartender nodded and moved to the other side of the counter to attend to another guest—a new arrival with hair quite tousled from the now rough winds outside of the club. She was rubbing her hands rapidly and blowing some warmth onto them when the bartender offered a glass of hot water. She smiled, thanked him, and ordered a glass of champagne, in a voice so familiar and estranged. He couldn't help but turn his head towards her in curiosity.

It was as if she had sensed this, she who was seated almost five stools away from him and who, most likely, would not have even noticed his presence had she been a total stranger to him. She turned to him and their eyes met, recognition flashing through both their faces. And after a moment's hesitation, she heaved a breath, left her seat and walked towards him, stopping by the vacant seat right next to him.

"Kenshin," she greeted softly. She sat beside him. "I didn't know you went to places like this."

"Likewise," he acknowledged. "Although, I've only started coming here almost a month ago."

Her lips formed a small, wistful smile. "I haven't been coming here often as well. This is the first time I've been here on my own. I didn't realize I'd have company."

He frowned a bit.

"Would you like me to leave?"

She shook her head, the smile never really leaving her face.

"No, it's alright. Please stay."

He nodded his head in assent, reaching for his wine and finally taking another sip.

There was something awkward, almost painful in the way she had said it. In the same way that there was also something awkward, almost painful with her position beside him, the tentativeness with which she held her glass, and the smile that remained in her face up until now. He silently observed her from the corner of his eyes. He could make out the long, black hair cascading loosely down her back, with nothing, even her usual hair ribbon, to hold it in place.

He sighed inwardly at how beautiful she looked whenever she wore her hair that way.

"How are you?" she suddenly asked. Startled, it took some moments before he could reply, "I'm fine. I believe I'm handling things quite well."

She pursed her lips into a small pout, probably surprised at the directness with which he answered her. Of course, it would have been silly of her to think that he would avoid such a thing at this point in time.

"How long has it been since then? A month?" she asked next.

"A little over a month," he corrected. "We're still talking about it. Our lawyers are quite a pain; they're the ones insisting on certain terms of the alimony, even if we've more or less settled it between us."

"Oh, alright. But it's good that you're talking quite peaceably about this. I'm glad that you're not going through too rough a time."

"I am too. It's spared me a great deal of stress. All I really have to worry about is work, and, well, the times after work. When I go home."

"Home? Where are you living now?"

"I'm back to my old apartment. I never really got around to selling it. And it's a good thing I didn't."

"Lucky you. What's going to happen to the house?"

"We're selling it. We'll split the proceeds."

"That sounds fair."

And there was silence again.

Kenshin took the time to observe her, to register the changes about her since he had last seen her. They hadn't really remained in contact, the two of them, which was why he found himself feeling quite alienated with most of the things that he could see in her now. Actually, they were little things—the simple makeup she wore to accentuate her features, the crisp folds of her white linen blouse, the black pencil skirt that clung almost suggestively to her small waist, the string of pearls that glowed softly around her neck, and even the clear polish that glistened lightly on her nails. But there were more subtle things—the quiet confidence with which she carried herself, the calm tone of her voice, and the solemn and thoughtful expression she wore on her face.

His silent perusal ended with the regretful conclusion that she was not the same friend he had said goodbye to the night he got married more than a year ago.

"Kaoru, how are you?"

It was her turn to be startled. She bit her lip before she replied, "I'm good."

It didn't seem like she was going to continue after that. Kenshin was forced to press further.

"How are things going with you and Enishi?" he asked, finally cutting to the chase.

Her lips fell into a straight line, and her shoulders slumped. She took a deep breath, and her entire demeanor changed. He was immediately concerned.

"Is something wrong?"

"I broke up with him."

He was shocked to hear this.

"What happened?" he inquired gently. "I thought the two of you were hitting it off so well."

Kaoru frowned before her lips formed a small smile.

"We were. Until things started to change."

"What do you mean?'

She smiled ruefully, her face showing that she clearly did not want to talk about it. Kenshin apologized gently for the intrusion, which she shrugged off to be okay. "You didn't know," she said. "It's alright."

They sat in silence after that, neither of them touching their drinks. There was a palpable tension in the air between them, and neither of them knew how to break it. Kenshin sighed inwardly once more. It seemed like he had ruined what could have been a good opportunity to talk, to catch up. But it was just like what she had said: he didn't know.

Come to think of it, there were a lot of things he didn't know anymore about the woman beside him.

How long had it been since the two of them had last talked over a white chocolate mocha, her favorite cheeseburger, an ice cream sundae, a puff of cotton candy, potato chips and useless junk about anything? When was the last time that they had gone out to watch a movie, went ice-skating, since she last dragged him shopping? Or the last time that they pored over the new arrivals at the street corner bookstore, hunted for bargains on expired film (she was obsessed with lomography at one point, he remembered), or visited an art gallery? How long had it been since he had last heard her cry over the phone about one pound's increase in her weight, the plant she had been tending which died on her after just a day, her latest published freelance article in a travel magazine, the heroine of her favorite soap opera getting her heart broken?

Indeed, it has been a while.

They hadn't done anything of that kind since he got married. Rather, they hadn't done anything of that kind since he started dating Tomoe seriously.

And that was quite a long time ago.

Usually, whenever she needed to cry her heart out over a boy she was disappointed with, she'd always run to him for comfort. And he'd let her curl up against him and sob, patting her gently on the shoulder or stroking her hair. This time, he could feel her distance. It was almost as if she didn't want him to know—or ever want him to know.

Suddenly, without warning, he heard Kaoru set down her glass forcefully and stand up sharply.

"Oh, damn you Kenshin," she said through gritted teeth. "Damn you."

And in one swift movement, she scooped up her belongings—coat, handbag and all, there really wasn't much she brought with her—and stormed out, her heels clicking soundly in her wake.

He was shocked.

The bartender, on the other hand, walked calmly towards the seat Kaoru had occupied and took the half-empty glass. He sighed a little, perhaps about the fact that she had left without paying her bill, and then turned his head towards Kenshin. He looked at him silently, his lips pursed in a thin line.

Kenshin stood up abruptly, fished out a wad of bills from his pocket, threw it carelessly onto the counter, and walked briskly out of the club. He was hoping—wishing, fervently—that he would still catch her outside. That she hadn't left yet. And when he pushed his way through the doors into the harsh, cold air of the night, he saw her standing by the sidewalk, back straight with tension.

"Kaoru," he called, hoping that she would hear.

For a second she stood still; a moment later, her head turned slowly towards him. They looked straight into each other's eyes; he found nothing but sorrow in them.

A cab pulled up in front of her, and without a moment's hesitation, she opened the door and went inside.

"Wait," he called out again, running to stop her, but the driver had stepped on the gas upon her orders and sped off. He stood transfixed to the spot where she had just been standing heartbeats ago, watching as the vehicle disappeared into the urban traffic.

* * *

He tried calling her the next day. At the very least, even if she won't pick up, he'd hear her answering machine. But after a few rings, someone picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

The voice was not Kaoru's.

"Excuse me, is Kaoru there?" he inquired politely.

"Kamiya Kaoru? I'm sorry, she no longer lives here," came the reply from the other line.

He was taken aback with what he had heard.

"What do you mean? She owns that apartment, doesn't she?"

"Not anymore, Sir. I'm the new owner. She just moved out the day before yesterday."

He didn't know what to say.

"Sir, are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm sorry. Would you know where she is now?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't know."

"I see. Thank you."

And he hung up.

[ 4 ]


End file.
